The Conscience
by BookCaseGirl
Summary: It appears that Blair Waldorf does have a conscience. It just doesn't show up at the best of times.


**Title: **The Conscience

**Author: **BookCaseGirl (Abby)

**Date: **September 23, 2009

**Rating: **T

**Classification: **Fluff, with a wee bit of angst.

_**Summary: It appears that Blair Waldorf does have a conscience. It just doesn't show up at the best of times.**_

**Author's Note: **I feel like I'm losing my touch with writing. Maybe if I try and force myself, something good will come out. I apologize for not having written in a while, but life has been insane, really. Who knew life really could be full of so much activity? Oh well, here we go. Some fluff (:

**Special Note: I don't own Gossip Girl, and I don't really have any relation to anyone who does. ):**

"Are you cold?" he breathed on her naked skin as they lay in bed, clammy sweat covering their skin and matting down their hair. The windows were wide open, and a cool, calm breeze came through them. Chuck was still convinced that Blair was shivering.

"No," she replied quietly, smiling when she heard that hint of concern in his voice – the same concern that had been there for the hours since he'd told her he loved her. His hand burned into her arm – a pleasant, warm burn – as he traced circles there.

"Liar," he murmured, voice tickling the tiny, barely-there hairs on her neck. Blair smiled again – smiles were a thing to be expected now; Chuck just made her that happy – and turned around snuggling closer to Chuck Bass – her _boyfriend. _

She was his girlfriend. He was her boyfriend. _They _were in a _relationship_. Everything was still so surreal for Blair, but it seemed to her like Chuck was totally unaffected by everything that had taken place in the last six hours. He breathed so easily, his shoulders were lax, and his eyes didn't pop out in shock even hours after the fact.

Blair's chest heaved, still afraid that he would burst into smoke at any moment. She had been tense ever since late that afternoon, when they'd first consummated their love, and her eyes were like a re-enactment of the movie "A Bug's Life". She tried to calm down, knew she was being absolutely absurd. Nerves were for the weak, the unstable. She was Blair, and he was Chuck. They'd known each other forever, she had nothing to be insecure about. She never had anything to be frightened of.

Chuck loved her.

…._Right?_

And there was that seed of doubt. Always right there...blooming each time she watered it with the fears of her inner-self.

She must have been drifting, because the stroking of his thumb against her right cheek brought Blair back to reality. He was gazing at her with a sparkle in his eyes that was probably there before, but that she was just noticing now. His lips twitched when she leaned in to kiss him, and they were twisted up in his full goofy smile when she pulled away.

"You're okay, right?" Chuck asked her.

"Mhmm...I'm fine." Her smile was fake, they both knew it. But they also knew that now Chuck was able to make that smile real. He didn't have to run away and hide from it all, he could fix it, because they were officially in love.

"Lie."

"Chu-" He interrupted her with his mouth, diving in and pinning her down on the bed. She felt traitorous lips that surely couldn't be hers parting, despite her doubts of his feelings – even still, she doubted him.

She attempted a mumble of protest when they broke away for air momentarily, but he silenced her, hands touching skin that had been left exposed from endless makeup sex (they had to make up for all that lost time, of course).

How could Blair deserve to be so happy, just laying here with Chuck Bass, no less? He was warm as he cuddled her warm and fragile body, and she was grateful for the source of heat. She should have been in a dark cave, paying for all the wrong she had done, all the people she had manipulated. But here she was, in her love's arms – the big burly arms that she dreamt of when he was miles away, and clung to when he was impossibly close.

Maybe Blair did deserve this. Maybe, in a twisted way – the work of serendipity, perhaps – she had worked hard in her life and finally merited the gift of getting exactly what she wanted. Possibly, getting Chuck was the trade-off for losing Yale.

All of this was far too deep to be thinking about while in a lip-lock with Charles. Bartholomew. Bass. That was for sure.

He growled appreciatively when Blair put more effort into the kiss, her teeth grazing his tongue and catching it. The muscle wriggled and eventually escaped before he gave her the same treatment, earning a quiet whimper of bliss. Chuck's hands were...elsewhere. Everywhere. On her hands, holding them; on her hips, moving them against his own; and in her hair, that beautiful chestnut hair that he could spend days running his hands through.

Blair pulled away again, her mind floating away once more. What about everything they had done to each other? Wouldn't the fates – everything in the universe – do whatever they could to bring their relationship the worst type of karma? Would Blair and Chuck survive on three words alone, or would they crumble? She wasn't sure she would ever recover from the latter.

_Chuck is more mature now, though,_ the other side of her mind argued. Her brain was beginning to hurt. _He's been through enough that he understands what he feels; time was all he needed. And time heals all wounds; everything will be fine._

But she just couldn't be sure. Even with the reassuring voice in her head (she wasn't insane, she swore; one or two voices was _completely _normal), Blair still couldn't swallow her feelings.

"Blair. What's wrong?" The question wasn't posed with annoyance or a bitter tone, but with a dulcet timbre and loving regard.

Blair couldn't do this now. They had only been together for a few hours...not even a day! What the hell was wrong with her? Here she was, wondering how long they'd last, when she was just making doomsday loom even closer with her distant looks and vague responses.

She pasted a genuine smile on her face – she was happy, damn it; this was Chuck Bass and she loved him so much that it sometimes kept her up at night – and took both of his hands, pulling him up with her into a sitting position on the bed. Blair's lips immediately found Chuck's and she pushed her face against his, as he pushed back with more force.

_This _was them. They weren't angsty (unless something drastic was taking place) and they were not sad. They were playful and exciting. Everything was always alive and pulsing when Chuck and Blair were in the same room. The couple was the life of any party; and if one wasn't taking place, it was moments after they arrived. They were electric.

And alone, they were red hot and fiery as hell.

Their entangled, naked bodies fell back against the soft, silky sheets of Chuck's bed. Chuck and Blair's hands roamed freely on one another's bodies before stopping when they met and grasping one another soundly, confidently. The combined breathing of the two was loud and uneven as his hips met hers in the dance they knew so well.

No longer would there be a threesome between Blair, her conscience, and Chuck. There simply was not room.

**End Note: **Umm...this is the first thing I've written in a solid two and a half months that I have felt wasn't completely terrible. I'm semi-proud of the fact that I could write it, even being sick. Reviews would really be appreciated, thanks (:


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